


i think i'm falling for you

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, doctor potts/captain stevens, mildly in denial steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: If pressed on the subject of his sexuality, Captain Stevens gruff reply would catch most people off guard and confuse the remaining. “I never let myself think about liking guys because I suspected I might like ‘em so I nipped that in the bud before it even got started.” Simply put, he’s never allowed himself permission to open that particular door. But there’s never been temptation to open it either. Sure, sometimes he lingers in front of the closed door, fleeting wondering, what if. But it isn’t true temptation. Not until Doctor Potts joins the Camp Lehigh team.





	i think i'm falling for you

If pressed on the subject of his sexuality, Captain Stevens gruff reply would catch most people off guard and confuse the remaining. “I never let myself think about liking guys because I suspected I might like ‘em so I nipped that in the bud before it even got started.” Simply put, he’s never allowed himself permission to open that particular door. But there’s never been temptation to open it either. Sure, sometimes he lingers in front of the closed door, fleeting wondering, what if. But it isn’t true temptation. Not until Doctor Potts joins the Camp Lehigh team.

Stevens doesn’t think about why he follows Potts puttering around his lab as he babbles a mile a minute about shit Stevens doesn’t fully understand. He doesn’t think about why his eyes sweep over Potts figure like he’s trying to commit him to memory, lingering on his waist, hips, hands. He doesn’t think about why he gets to angry at the mere _possibility _that Potts might go on the field armed with nothing but his 'state-of-the-art gadgets' but never a gun. No, no, no. Captain Stevens doesn’t think about his actions at all. Why would he? So far he’s been attracted to girls and only girls.

Revelation strikes him one fine day when Potts is quiet and morose and Stevens doesn’t know why. No amounts of needling or joking prompts the usual amount of spark in the dark haired man. There’s only a melancholy that hangs over Potts head like a stormy cloud. One of the ladies from the typing pool clucks her tongue as Potts walks out of the elevator, shoulders slumped and briefcase knocking against his side. 

“His wife’s divorcing him. Complained he worked too much. Poor dear.”

_More for me then, _Stevens remembers thinking before feeling utterly poleaxed by the fleeting smug happiness that pops up in his chest. He chastises himself immediately, scolding himself internally and punishing himself externally by staying an extra hour at the gym, pounding into the sandbag like it's personally offended him. The poor man’s obviously heart broken at being left by his wife and all Steve can think is… is…

_Don’t__, _Steve warns his brain. Turns out, it’s not his brain that needs looking after because his heart hijacks everything. His heart’s the reason why Potts stays on his mind all night and the next morning. Rolling around what if's and maybe's and possibilities that are as exhilarating as they are terrifying. His heart’s the cause of him jerking to a stop in front of the florist, staring at the flowers wondering… _What if I…_

When Potts shows up for work that morning, he stops at the doorway and stares at the _large _bouquet of wild flowers that’re waiting for him in the middle of his lab, on his favorite bench, next to his latest project. Stevens knows Potts turns to stare at him, confusion probably all over his handsome face. Well. He _guesses _Potters is probably staring at him. Steve’s too busy staring a hole into the newspaper he’s holding up in front of his face.

“Who sent the flowers?” Potts finally asks.

Stevens grunts, “Dunno. They were here when I got in.”

Lies, terrible lies. But so long as Potts doesn’t see his face, he won’t know Stevens is lying. Stevens hears Potts shuffling over to his desk. The sound of crinkling paper reaches Stevens ears and he can’t help but peek over his newspaper. Potts' eyes are closed, his face hovering over the flowers as he takes a delicate sniff. _Ah. _So that’s what happiness looks like on Potts. It’s lovely. 

Steve’s stupid idiotic heart flips its shit inside his chest, flailing moronically as Potts peeks up at him. When the man’s smile broadens into a grin, Steve ducks his head behind the newspaper, voice gruff as he asks, “So? Who sent ‘em? They put in a card or anythin’?”

“Don’t know. There isn’t a card. But I’ve got a good guess who.”

“The missus?” Stevens asks, heart now doing it’s best attempt of a heart attack when he hears Potts walking up to him. Oh God. Potts can’t know, can he? He might be a genius but he’s not mind readers. There’s no _way _he can know that Stevens is the one who brought the flowers. 

Stevens swallows, waiting for polished shoes to enter his field of vision but instead, a single digit sweeps over his shoulder, making him jump in his seat. He turns to glare at Potts, only to find a finger being held up in his direction. A finger whose tip is colored with yellow pollen. Stevens stares at Potts fingertip, looks down at his shoulder where he’d rested the flowers when he’d been digging out his wallet, and _knows _he’s flushing that awful red shade that makes him look like a fucking tomato.

Stevens waits for the mockery, the jokes, the ridicule. It’s in this moment he realizes that despite never having given himself the space to question his sexuality, his sexuality still defined itself and now he’s scared that the truth will ruin him, his career, his life. 

But then he looks up into Potts dark eyes and finds nothing but gentle, shy happiness. “Thank you, Captain.” Potts tells him.

Stevens swallows, keenly aware of how his throat clicks when he does so. Fuck, his throat is so dry. There’s only one thing to say, that he wants to say. “I hope you like ‘em.”

“I love them. I love wild flowers. But why…”

“You just looked so sad yesterday I…”

His breath is stolen out of his lungs when Potts darts in, blink and you’ll miss it, and steals a kiss. Stevens stares incredulously at Potts, at the pink that’s spreading over his face, forgetting everything except this lovely, _courageous _man and his overwhelming desire to kiss Potts again because that was too quick, not enough!

“I uh… have work to do,” Potts says, taking a step back. He sounds so breathless. Stevens wonders if he’s the cause of it and feels… God. He feels like he could move mountains if someone asked him to. “I’ll let you get back to your…”

Potts flicks his fingers at the newspaper Stevens’ dropped to the floor before turning on his heel. But Stevens doesn’t want Potts to go. For once, heart and mind are in total agreement as he reaches out to grab Potts by the wrist and pull him back in. Why? He doesn’t know. Stevens just knows he doesn’t want Potts to go away, not even a couple of feet away.

Dark eyes blink up at him, confused and oh God. Is that arousal? Stevens’ mouth goes dry and he lets himself wonder. He lets himself _imagine _what it would be like somewhere safe, behind closed doors, with Potts. No clothes, no titles, just them. Licking his lips draws Potts gaze down; the thoughtless motion is like stoking a fire, encouraging it to burn brighter, hotter.

“Go out with me,” Stevens finds himself asking.

Surprise flashes through Potts eyes, followed immediately by a strange tentativeness. Stevens is about to ask what’s wrong when Potts quietly says, “I’m… going through a divorce right now.”

Stevens can’t help but glance down at the heavy gold ring adorning the brunet’s left hand. He presses his lips together, grip relaxing on Potts. “I understand,” Stevens’ says stiffly, kicking himself internally for moving too fast. 

But Potts’ hands are the ones that hold him in place now, eyes urgent as he explains, “I can’t just yet. I have to wait until all the papers are signed and processed. But once…once that’s done. I’d love to go out with you.”

It’s said in a rush, like Potts can’t get the words out fast enough. Stevens stares, wondering why he feels so dizzy all of a sudden. No one told him it was possible to feel so suddenly, deeply happy that you’d get _dizzy_. “Yeah?” he finds himself asking, voice low and hopeful.

Potts smiles at him, squeezing Stevens’ wrists. “Yeah. It’s just another three weeks. What’s that after three months of flirting?”

_A lifetime, _is Stevens’ instinctive urge to point out because he’s changed a lot of ways since being a child but he’s always been impatient about getting things he wants. But Potts is right. Three weeks is nothing. So he nods but he doesn’t let Potts go. Stevens grins a little at Potts puzzled look before ducking his head to steal a kiss of his own before he lets Potts go.

**Author's Note:**

> idk why my captain stevens turns out to be like ults steve but /SHRUG EMOJI


End file.
